The Importance of Being Emma
Page 17
Although I’d made this arrangement before Flynn arrived, it turned out to be a far-sighted decision; I now felt like wearing something new to the Westons’ – and Findlesham had a very select dress shop.
Tilly’s was one of those quaint establishments that was, and had been since time immemorial, truly customer focused; the staff waited unobtrusively on your every need, brought any tea you fancied – Highbury Foods had supplied some of the more specialist blends for years – and made dainty sandwiches to individual order. Knowing that Harriet would drink something you could stand a spoon in, I ordered a pot of Earl Grey for one and settled down with the latest issue of Fortune.
Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed and still Harriet didn’t appear, with no reply whenever I called her mobile. At last she hurtled through the door, almost half an hour late and breathless with agitation.
‘You’ll never guess what happened!’ she said, her eyes suspiciously bright.
It was obvious she’d heard about Philip and Gusty. I took a sip of Earl Grey and prepared soothing phrases. She crashed down on the chair opposite and ordered ‘a pot of really, really strong tea, nothing posh, and a ham and pickle sarnie’. This prompted the waitress to launch into a gentle interrogation. Did she want white bread, malted grain or wholemeal? Crusts on or off? Butter or a healthy alternative? Smoked ham – or plain Wiltshire, freshly cut off the bone? By the time we got to the choice of pickles, I’d almost lost the will to live.
The waitress turned to me. ‘What would you like, Miss Woodhouse?’
‘The same, and another pot of Earl Grey,’ I said. ‘As quickly as you can, please, I’m running late.’
When we were on our own, Harriet gave me an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, Emma, I was on time, honest, then I noticed I’d nearly run out of petrol. So I turned into Ford’s – ’
‘Ford’s?’
‘Yeah, that garage in Little Bassington – ’
‘I know exactly where Ford’s is,’ I said, grimly. ‘But what on earth were you doing there? Findlesham is the other side of Highbury and there’s a perfectly good petrol station on the way.’
She looked down. ‘Well, you see, I’ve been going past Philip’s house at least once a day.’
‘Oh Harriet, why?’
She shifted uneasily in her seat. ‘Dunno, just a habit.’ She took a deep breath and went on, ‘Anyway, Ford’s is a crap garage, more for repairs, innit? The man has to come and work the pump for you, but he wasn’t around. And it was raining, so I just waited in the car. Then – guess what?’
‘I have no idea.’
At this point, her pot of tea arrived. She gave it a thorough stir and poured out a cup of what looked like treacle. Half the jug of milk followed, which seemed to defeat the object of having such a strong brew in the first place. After a couple of gulps she lurched forward, as if the information she was about to share was highly confidential.
‘He came,’ she said, in a loud whisper.
‘Philip?’
She looked at me as though I was an imbecile. ‘No – Rob.’
‘Robert Martin?’
‘Yes, I knew it was him because his van has yellow furry dice hanging from the mirror thingy.’
I gave a delicate shudder. ‘Not many of those round here.’
‘He only got them because I said I liked them.’ She took a paper napkin from the little silver holder and started fiddling with it. ‘He was with his sister, but for one horrible moment I thought she might be a new girlfriend … Not that I care,’ she added, shredding the napkin into dandruff-sized pieces on her plate.
‘What happened exactly?’
‘Alison – his sister, remember, the one that was going to Amsterdam – ’
‘Yes, yes,’ I said impatiently. ‘What did she do?’
‘She got out of the van and came across to me, so I wound down the window and – oh Emma, it was awful!’ She dropped what remained of the napkin into the sugar bowl and covered her face with her hands, knocking over the milk jug in the process. A waitress appeared as if from nowhere and calmly cleaned everything up, while I took a fortifying drink of tea. There was another delay while our sandwiches arrived. Harriet peeped through her fingers at them but made no move to uncover her face.
‘Harriet,’ I said sternly, ‘pull yourself together and tell me what Alison said.’
She lowered her hands at last. ‘She said,’ – her voice trembled – ‘she said “Have you been waiting here long?” or something.’
My eyes widened. ‘Is that all?’
The hands waved wildly about, narrowly missing the little vase of golden-bronze spray chrysanthemums. ‘It was the shock of her even speaking to me, after – well, you know – ’
‘Yes, yes.’
She started dissecting another napkin. ‘I told her I’d been sitting there at least five minutes. So she smiled and said she’d get Rob to go and find Dave to do the petrol. And I said I didn’t want him to get wet and she laughed, but not in a nasty sort of way, and said he was big enough to look after himself. Then she went and the next thing I knew he was there, even closer to me than you are, and – and guess what he said?’
I sighed. ‘I really can’t imagine.’
‘That Dave was on his way and I needed to wind the window up otherwise I’d get wet.’
‘Gosh.’
‘He must still like me … d’you think?’
I was silent. I had to admit – rather grudgingly and only to myself – that, if Mark Knightley had time for him, Robert Martin must be a decent man. And, in my view, a decent man didn’t switch from one woman to another that easily. Whereas it appeared that Philip Elton had forgotten me as soon as Gusty batted her eyelids at him across a crowded room …
I took a deep breath. ‘Harriet, please stop fiddling with that napkin and listen to me. I need to talk to you about Philip.’
She dropped the napkin, cocked her head on one side and said vacantly, ‘Philip?’
‘Yes, Philip.’ Another deep breath. ‘He seems to have acquired a girlfriend at that conference last week.’
‘Yeah, that would be about right.’ She took a sandwich and crammed it in her mouth.
I was completely taken aback by her reaction, or lack of it. ‘What do you mean?’
She gave me a pitying look as she swallowed the sandwich. ‘Don’t you ever read horoscopes? I checked Philip’s on Thursday and it was obvious he’d found someone in Bristol, it said “love blossoms from a chance meeting in foreign parts”. That’s when I knew there was no point fancying him any more.’
I frowned. ‘But it didn’t stop you going past his house today.’
‘Told you, it’s just a habit,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘And I’m interested in seeing who he’s got off with, aren’t you? He’ll want to show her his lovely house, so I’m bound to see her some time soon.’
‘Apparently she’s staying with him this weekend,’ I said. ‘Or so Mary told me on Friday. You weren’t in the office at the time, you must have been at lunch.’
She looked puzzled. ‘I can’t remember where I was, but I didn’t have any lunch, I know that. Too much to do.’
‘I didn’t think I’d left you a lot of work. You must tell me if – ’
‘Oh, it wasn’t your work,’ she said airily. ‘Well, it was in a way, since Jane reports to you. She thought it would be good if I got a whole lot of stuff ready for her to read on Monday. Took me ages, but I didn’t mind. She’s lovely, isn’t she? Sort of looks like a Goth, only nicer. It meant I didn’t quite finish that presentation you’d given me, but Jane told me not to worry.’
My lips tightened. ‘In future, Harriet, my work takes priority over Jane’s.’
‘Sorry.’ She took a quick slurp of tea. ‘Did you get much research done with Mark?’
It was a question I’d been expecting, but it caught me off guard. Two vivid recollections invaded my thoughts: that look in his eyes as he reached for me, and the feel of his mouth, making love to mine …
She giggled. ‘I wouldn’t be thinking about work with him around, I’d be hoping for a storm so we’d have to stay the night at Ashridge.’
‘I can assure you there was nothing further from my mind,’ I said coolly.
She looked at me curiously. ‘How long is it since your last shag?’
‘Harriet!’ I glanced round to see if anyone was listening, then leaned forward. ‘The other big news is that Flynn Churchill’s arrived in Highbury at long last – you know, Tom Weston’s son, the celebrity chef from Australia.’ I sat back and reached for my purse to pay the bill. ‘Which reminds me, I need a new dress for tonight. Come to Estella’s next door and help me choose something that Flynn won’t be able to resist.’
I had no intention of being guided by her at all, of course. She sat in the dress shop working out how many tops she could buy at Primark for the price of one of Estella’s silk camisoles, while I tried on five or six outfits. In the end, I bought a sexy black dress that fitted me to a T, and made sure she didn’t see how much it cost.
Just as we were walking back along the high street, a horribly familiar blue sports car swung into the parking area and screeched to a halt next to my BMW. Philip leapt out from the far side, ran round, flung open the passenger door and hovered expectantly, like an eager puppy returning a carelessly thrown stick.
Harriet and I paused to watch the next part of the performance. First two sturdy legs emerged, encased in Evisu jeans and Ugg boots; then a pair of enormous breasts, jostling with each other to escape from a tight red scoop-necked jumper; and finally, the sort of swirling golden tresses you’d normally see in a L’Oréal advert. This apparition had hardly toppled out of the car when Philip grabbed her and started devouring her. We had an uninterrupted view of her hands slipping down the back of his trousers to fondle his buttocks.
‘I think we’ve seen enough,’ I said to Harriet in a disapproving tone. ‘Let’s go and sit in your car until they’ve gone.’
But I was too late. Philip swivelled round, detaching his mouth from the woman’s in the nick of time. ‘Emma, wait!’
They tottered across the car park towards us, welded together from shoulder to hip, Philip smirking in a ‘Didn’t take me long to find someone, did it?’ kind of way.
‘Let me introduce Gusty,’ he said to me, ignoring Harriet. He added with a leer, ‘We’ve only just got up, so it’s afternoon tea at Tilly’s instead of breakfast.’
Gusty flicked her hair back from her face and bared her teeth in the semblance of a smile. She was pretty enough, though not a patch on Harriet, and immaculately made up.
‘So this is the famous Emmurrr Woodhouse,’ she drawled in a strong Bristol accent, holding out a gleaming set of nail extensions. ‘I’ve heard so much about you and your little marrrketing efforts at Highburrry Foods.’
Remembering where her hand had just been, I said coldly, ‘Do you mind if I don’t shake hands? My father’s immune system is very fragile at the moment and he’s insisting that I take every precaution … This is Harriet, she’s a great help to me in my little marketing efforts.’
Harriet mumbled something, but neither of them paid her the slightest bit of attention.
‘Give this to Henry and tell him I’ll be in touch,’ Gusty said, handing me a little white card from her pocket.
I held it rather gingerly by the edges. It was of good quality and had ‘Augusta Hawkins, ACA, Strategic Financial Consultant’ across the middle, with a five-lobed leaf below, all in gold. I turned it over and read: ‘The Maple Grove Consultancy, for businesses that can afford the best’. I was surprised, however, to see that the contact address began ‘3, Paradise View, Little Bassington’.
‘So you’re going to be based here?’ I said.
‘Until Pipkin tires of me.’ She poked Philip playfully, but hard, in the ribs.
‘That’ll never happen, babe, and you know it.’ ‘Pipkin’ leaned into her and started nibbling her ear.
I gave a brittle smile. ‘Looks like you’re hungry, mustn’t keep you from your tea.’ With that, I steered Harriet firmly over to her car. By the time she’d found her keys, dropped them in a puddle and fished them out again, the lovebirds were safely inside Tilly’s.
Harriet frowned as she unlocked her car. ‘That’s a funny name – Gutsy.’
‘Gusty. It’s short for Augusta.’
‘She’s so-o-o cool.’
‘I thought she was rather vulgar,’ I said, with a sniff.
‘He’s crazy about her.’
‘Looks like it, although I really can’t understand what he sees in her, compared to you – or me.’
‘They’re obviously at it like rabbits.’
‘Yes, we were getting that message loud and clear.’
‘Lucky them. Go for it while you have the friggin’ chance, that’s what I say.’ She let out a long noisy sigh and got into the car. ‘Thanks for the tea, see you Monday.’
She turned the key in the ignition, revved up the engine, fumbled through various gears and drove off, narrowly missing my foot.
I stood in the middle of the car park, deep in thought. ‘Go for it while you have the frigging chance.’ Such a simple philosophy.
Well, I felt sure I had a chance with Flynn. And I’d be going for it – come hell, high water or Mark Knightley.
Chapter Eight
~~MARK~~
The evening at Randalls was just about tolerable, until Churchill started playing his little games.
The seating arrangements didn’t help. He and I were directly opposite each other, which made him difficult to ignore. And I found it even harder to ignore Emma, who was next to him. Especially in that dress, or what there was of it.
I had to admit that the food was good, although I couldn’t believe Churchill had made do with what Kate had in her kitchen. On the other hand, knowing Kate, she’d have an impressive range of ingredients permanently in the fridge and plenty more in the freezer, neatly labelled no doubt. Whatever the truth of the matter, he’d managed to produce smoked salmon pâté, orange-glazed roast lamb and a rum-soaked pineapple cake, all washed down with a few bottles of Château Margaux 1959 from Tom’s antique wine cellar.
Henry, meanwhile, spooned his way through three courses of orangey-yellow mush. I suspected this was simply a purée of what we were eating, but Churchill gave him some bullshit about it being carrots and saffron specially blended with artichoke, which the Aborigines swore by for improving the digestion. Everyone greeted this pronouncement with oohs and ahs of wonder – except me. Anyway, Henry seemed happy enough; or maybe he was too distracted by Mary to notice what he was eating.
‘Dave Ford’s been so kind,’ Mary said, as soon as there was a lull in the conversation. ‘He wouldn’t take any money today for towing my car, said he’d just add it on to my bill, which is very considerate of him when you remember his wife’s … But unfortunately he thinks my big end’s gone, or was it my cylinder head gasket?’
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Churchill whisper something in Emma’s ear and send her off into a fit of the giggles.
Mary continued, ‘Either way, he says it’s going to be very expensive and he might have to keep the car for three weeks, with all the other work he’s … If there was only me to think about, I’d just hop on my bike – ’
‘Your bike?’ Henry leaned forward, his eyes wide with horror. ‘You’d be mown down by a juggernaut in no time, especially with the nights drawing in.’
‘No need to worry, Henry, I won’t even consider it because dear Jane needs to get to work as well. Although I do believe we’ve still got that old bike of hers … ’ She tittered. ‘She was quite the demon racer at one time, left all the children round here way behind – don’t you remember, Emma?’
Emma’s face darkened and I couldn’t resist saying in a loud aside
to Kate beside me, ‘Emma was always going to take her cycling proficiency test but she never put in the hours, did she, after her initial burst of enthusiasm?’
Henry frowned. ‘I’d offer you both a lift with Emma and me, but I’m afraid our morning routine’s rather unpredictable at the moment. Porridge for breakfast, you know,’ he added, as if that explained everything.
Mary said hesitantly, ‘I don’t suppose there’s a spare company car? Of course, I need an automatic, I never learned to drive a manual … Just a thought, Henry.’
‘I’ll have a word with Terry,’ Henry said doubtfully, ‘but I don’t think we’ve got many automatics. Have you looked into hiring something?’
She coloured. ‘Of course, but you see it’s a lot of money and Mother’s got a little problem with her … So she may need to have an operation privately, there’s such a long waiting list with the National Health … Never mind,’ she added, with a sigh, ‘I’m sure Jack Thomas will do me a special price for a taxi there and back each day, and we always have such a nice chat.’
Once again, Churchill whispered something to make Emma laugh.
It was time to bring this particular subject to a close. ‘I’ll give you and Jane a lift to work and back,’ I said firmly, ‘for as long as you need.’
She gave a squeal, half delight, half dismay. ‘But it’s too much out of your way and – ’